Brutes and Balverines, Heroes and Hobbes
by NixxH
Summary: One-Shot Series. This will include Fable I, Fable II, Fable III, and my 'Fable IV' story, To The Age of Ages. Meaning, all our favorite stars, plus a few OCs of my own creation, will be starring. Warning: May contain madness, smut, or any other sorts of debauchery. Rated M for obvious reasons. None of these one-shots will relate to the next unless stated otherwise.
1. Pirateer

**Author's Note: **Mind you, these one shots might have something to do with what really happens in the story _To The Age of Ages_, but most do not. I will specify what really happens in the forefront of the story and what is simply an add-in with my OC. Also, some of these will deal with some craziness with Princess/Hero of Bowerstone (Sparrow), Hammer, Garth, Logan, Reaver, Princess/Hero of Brightwall (Valentina), Theresa, Dog, Roman, and any other characters I throw in. They go in no specific order, mind you, and most will be for humor only.  
Drabbles and Oneshots to come!

**Disclaimer: ****_I do not own Fable or any affliates, for I have yet to win the lottery and buy the rights out from everyone. If I did, you would be able to marry Reaver in Fable II and Fable III. :D_**

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**Pirateer!**_**  
**__Reaver, Alouette (OC), Valentina (Hero of Brightwall, Fable III)_

"Reaver, I only need you to watch her for a minute!" The queen was irritated now, beyond all reason, and glaring heatedly at the man before her. "She won't even remember you being near her, I swear. The girl has the memory of a goldfish, and I'm afraid Deryn is much to young to be babysitting."

"But you see, my queen, _I am too damn busy to be babysitting_! I cannot believe you would trust me to watch your child in the first place," he 'humphs', taking another hefty dose of his scotch and smiling to himself in a rather malicious way. "I could corrupt her into being a harlot when she comes of age. Who knows?"

"The one thing I know about you, Reaver," the Queen growls, "is that you are not a child molester and do have a heart buried somewhere in that coat of yours. Now, I must be off. Take care of the child and just. . . amuse her or something."

With this statement out of the way, the Queen of Albion and Hero of Brightwall was gone, leaving behind her precious little gem. The redheaded five-year-old was staring up at the industrialist, grinning broadly. Reaver, on the other hand, was trying to partake in his drink a little quicker than beforehand.

"Now, what is it we could do for you to entertain yourself, hmm?" Reaver murmurs, almost weary to be to close to the child. If anything happened to her, it was no doubt that the queen Valentina would mount his head for all of the world to see, and do so with that delectable smile on her face.

"Let's play a game!" The girl bounds up to him, grabbing his hand in her tiny digits and pulling roughly. "Get up, you fat hobbe! We have to go and play my favorite game!"

_'Am I wrong, or did that child just call me a 'fat hobbe'?' _Reaver nearly chokes on air at the statement, debating on ways of killing the girl without her mother finding out. Unfortunately, with as fond of the girl as Valentina was, she would probably know the second it happened, no matter if she was in Silverpines or not.

With a dejected sigh, he stands and stares down at the girl, shaking his head. "Alright darling, what game is it you want to play?"

She huffs, narrowing her eyes at the tycoon. "My name is Alouette, silly! Mother says my name is beautiful and should be used all the time. So _use it_!" He could not help but laugh at her rudeness, knowing it was not a trait her mother had taught her and rarely ever saw. "And I want to play a game I call 'Pirateer'!"

A manicured brow raises at the child, _Alouette, _top hat nowhere to be found. "Pirateer? Shouldn't you be playing 'Queen' or something or other?"

She giggles, rolling her ocean blue eyes at him. "No, silly. I don't want to be a queen. I want to be a pirate! Mum would never allow me to be one, but I'm going to do it anyways. Since she isn't here, I can play this game and since she told you to take care of me, I am forcing you to play too!"

To say Reaver was surprised would be a bit much, but to hear that a _princess_ such as from the line of the great Queen Sparrow wanted to be a _pirate _was almost unreal. It was in this moment he saw a rather fond resemblance in this child, and decided to go out on a limb and play with her. Besides, only the servants were ambling around today and he would gladly shoot any that tried to retell his stories of playing 'Pirateer' with a five-year-old princess.

"Alright, teach me how to play than, Alouette," he chuckles, kneeling beside her and awaiting her instructions.

_**-:.:(Pirateer):.:-  
**_

And so, the industry tycoon found himself running after a small child a few hours later, watching as the remarkable little thing did all sorts of heroic actions (or so she believed, when in reality they weren't really that impressive) and pretended to be shooting at him with her fingers. Apparently he had taken on the roll of a guard, trying to capture the notorious pirate queen, Alouette of the Six Seas, and had been chasing her for Avo knows how long.

"And the beautiful pirate queen makes a dashing escape from the evil-weevil Spire Guard!" Alouette screams, jumping on the railing in his foyer and sliding down marvelously. Reaver was impressed, considering the child was so young and already had such a grand sense of balance.

"Tut, tut, my dear. You forget," Reaver had met her at the end of the staircase, catching her with ease from the railing once she ended her descent, "Spire Guards are quite sneaky, I daresay. Now, hold still."

"Never, you foul beast!" She was screaming, and unbeknownst to the pair, a whole gaggle of servants were peeking their heads from various doorways, grinning and giggling at the cute little display. Alouette was not easy to hold, but Reaver did give the child some slack. She was out of his arms in a moment, shooting outside and into his garden.

It was in this moment that the tycoon turned to said servants and gave them a hearty grin, "If all of you are not back to work in the single skip of my wicked heart, I will shoot every last one of you on the spot." It was incentive enough, for none were around to see him pull out his gun. He holsters it again, idly walking after the energetic child.

Once he is outside, he notices how much the sun had gone down over time. They had been playing this silly game since lunch, and it was close to being the eve of twilight, descending into night. It was time to end all this, and first he needed to find his sweet little song-bird.

"Oh Alouette? Where is it you have run off to?" Reaver calls to the evening, heading towards his small dock and finding the child in a rather impressive predicament. She had found his small rowboat and had untied it successfully, but was not floating a good ten feet from the dock with a scared look on her face. "What in the name of Skorm are you doing, child? Swim back over here immediately."

Though she was frightened obviously, the tears that were in her eyes did not fall down her face. She was sniffling profoundly, still standing and huddled into herself with fear. "Reaver, I can't swim!"

He laughs outwardly at this, stepping to the very end of the dock and staring at her. He had long since removed his heavy coat, now able to see his expensive double-breasted vest, and grinned at the girl. "Then row back over here then. Come now, I need to get you inside before your mother shows up and has a fit. Besides, what sort of pirate cannot swim, hmm?"

"Uncle Logan taught me a bit, but he won't let me out in deep water so I can always touch and fake it!" she admitted shamefully. "But you just watch, I'll show you!" With this statement proclaimed and with the fearlessness of both her mother and her grandmother, the child jumps into the murky waters of Millfields Lake, coming to the surface again. "I LIED! HELP! I CAN'T SWIM!"

Reaver shakes his head, though does not hesitate to leap into the water after her and retrieve the shaking specimen. He could easily still touch his feet to the mud, in his pricey boots mind you, in this spot and dragged the little cretin to the dock with him. Though he was irritated that his clothing was ruined, he knew he needed to get the little thing in the warm house.

Carrying the shaking child, Reaver hands her off at the door to a maid, ordering her to put the child in dry clothes and get a fire stoked in the living room. Once she has run off, Reaver strips down to his birthday suit, snapping his fingers for more clothing to be brought to him. A butler appears, giving him a set of his expensive- isn't everything he wears of the finest quality after all- night clothing. The tycoon buttons up the long-sleeved top and pulls the pants on, padding his drying bare feet into the living room to see if the maid had hurried about her business.

Sure enough, the child was curled up in an armchair near the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket and in one of Reaver's longer shirts. Of course, he did not have any clothing for a child to wear and had to resort.

He makes to sit in the chair opposite of her, but the little arms reach out. "No! Sit with me please!" The ex-pirate sighs, picking her up and sitting her in his lap. She smiles giddily, taking the blanket and pulling it over them both despite his protests. "We both need to be warm. Shut up and just deal with it!"

"My, my! Such an attitude for one so small," he chuckles, allowing the child to pull his own arms around her. "Are we comfortable then, little princess?"

"My name is Alouette!" She glares, but snuggles in closer. "And yes, I am comfort. . . Comferta. . ."

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah, that!" She gives a soft giggle, but turns her beautiful blue eyes up to the man. "Mummy said you were a pirate once before too! Will you tell me the stories? I want to know, I want to know! Please!"

Reaver, despite his obvious fatigue, could not say no to such a darling little face, though he would never admit such. "Hmm. . . I'll tell you the story of how I came across my first Dragonstomper .48, my pistol."

Alouette was tuned in immediately, staring at him with an admiration he had not seen from such an innocent creature in all his life. It made that grin he normally wore lapse into a small smile. Of course, she would not know the difference and would not tell of his little show of affection towards the ambitious child.

"It started on one of my many trips to Samarkand. . ."

_**-:.:(Pirateer):.:-**_

"I'm here to pick up my daughter," the Queen Valentina sighs, entering the home of the illustrious industry tycoon. "Has he done anything amiss to my precious little girl? If he has, I will blow a hole straight through his damned head."

The maid had a grand smile on her face, putting a finger to her lips to quiet the queen. "Right this way miss. The help have been awing over this for an hour or more, I'm not sure. Wish we had one of those cameras all the nobles have, but we can't find Reaver's. Even then, we all like our lives intact. Come."

The maid shuffles noiselessly along, opening the door to the living room with ease and pointing to a bundle in one of the armchairs. Valentina ambles closer, eyes widening as the fire hits the two the right way, bathing them in light. She had never seen a sight such as this, especially not one involving Reaver.

The man in question has his arms wrapped loosely around a little girl, resting his head against the side of the chair as she cuddled into his chest. Alouette was wearing an over-sized shirt of intricate proportions, obviously one of Reaver's, and he was dressed in his pajamas. She stifles a chuckle, gently prying her daughter from the industrialist's grasp and heading towards the door, making sure to cover him back up in the process.

Unfortunately, Reaver dazedly wakes before she can make it, searching for the precious bundle he was grasping before. Once he realizes she is gone, he leaps to his feet and finds Valentina holding her child close. "Thank you, Reaver. I suppose she ran you ragged. Don't worry, you shouldn't have to watch her ever again. I'll be hiring appropriate baby-sitters from this point forward for last minute trips."

Reaver stares for a moment, giving his trademark grin, despite how lazily it was given. "Ah, she only took away from more important matters I had going forth today. The little monster was not that much of a bother, should the need absolutely arise again for me to watch her. Of course, I should always be a last resort, that is."

Valentina chuckles, shaking her head and leaning towards the exit. "Whatever you say Reaver." In this moment, Alouette grumbled something along the lines of, _'I wanna play Pirateer with Reaver again Mummy.' _"Well, despite the awful game you played with her, which I would not expect less from you, I might need you to watch her next week sometime when I go check on Driftwood. The dear might half-way drown again and my heart still hasn't recovered."

"Well, with the forewarning I suppose I can clear my busy schedule for a day," Reaver hums, heading past the queen and giving a small glance to the bundle in her arms. "And I will not be needing that shirt back. You may keep it and do as you wish with it, whether it be burn it or not."

"Thank you, Reaver. I'll pay you in full tomorrow for your troubles," Valentina whispers, exiting the door and heading towards her caravan, unaware that the tycoon watched as they left.

"Hmm, I suppose there is something of a little interest to keep me entertained then," the man chuckles, heading back into his home in Millfields to finally sleep in his decorated bed. Thoughts of that precious little pirate did not leave him so easily, and he found himself looking forward to her next visit. Should it not be soon enough, he might very well have to attend to the castle himself.

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**Ahh! How cute! I hoped you liked the first one-shot! =3 REVIEW!**


	2. Mask of Evil

**Author's Note: **This new one-shot is completely random humor. I was playing Fable II when I bought the house called 'The Dark Mark' to sleep in. When I woke up, it said I had the 'Mask of Evil' as my particular trait until I slept again. Once that happened, I sort of got giddy and ran off to my laptop with a new idea in mind, completely ignoring the game for a while. =3 I hope you find this as funny as my head made it seem when I was writing it!

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**Mask of EVIL!**_**  
**__Fable II__**  
**__Sparrow (Hero of Bowerstone), Hammer, Garth_

_{Warning: These go in no specific order! Hilarity to ensue. . . }_

"That darn Sparrow, running off and not wanting to find time to _let us know where she is at_!" Hammer growls, lumbering through Bowerstone Old Town and searching for the appropriate house. "I swear, I'm going to knock some sense into that loon, I will!"

"Would you just stop speaking? You are really giving me a headache. If she did not want to be found, she had a reason. We just got back from the Spire last week," Garth grumbles, ambling along beside the hunk of a woman.

Her ears were burning red as she glowered down at the man. "I bet you anything she's drunk as a bird right now and didn't invite me along! How dare she! I'll smash her little head in, I swear it!"

"So that is what you are all worked up over? You missed a chance to get drunk with Sparrow when you were busy getting drunk at the Rookridge Inn? Quaint," Garth rolls his eyes, then looks up at the agonizingly dark house before them. "This is it. _The Dark Mark_. Unmistakable for it's name, I'm afraid."

"Didn't expect the twit to pick out such a scary house," the woman murmurs, eye twitching. "She owns all of Albion, and she decides to camp _here _for the night? Ridiculous!"

"Perhaps this is a trap," Garth concludes. "Maybe we are being tested to see if we really believe she is here or not. The Sparrow we know would much prefer something simple and beautiful to this. . . extravagant and _horrendous _house."

Hammer stares at him for a moment.

And stares.

And stares.

"You really are more stupid than you let on. Sparrow may be smart, but when she drinks she is absolutely imbecilic. She's here." With that statement out of the way- and thoroughly ignoring Garth's rude remarks behind her- Hammer uses her. . . hammer. . . and busts the door from its hinges and across the quaint room, knocking over a duo of chairs, a small end table, and a flower pot in the process. "SPARROW!"

Sure enough, there sat a barking mutt with a happy tail wagging at the sight of the monk and the mage. She stoops down to pet him once, smiling at the creature and cooing over him.

"Can we just get the hero and get out of here already?" Garth begins gliding up the stairs, his Will marks glowing against the darkness of the house. "Sparrow? Are you up here?"

Hammer was close behind him, very close, and staring into the darkness. Something was moving in the corner, shifting and making ugly little noises. "Wh-what is that? Sparrow?"

_Gurgle, gurgle. Chew, chew. Giggle, snort, whimper._ All sorts of odd, fearsome noises were coming from the little ball sitting face-forward in the corner on the other side of the luxurious bed. Garth hurries to light a nearby candle with his magic, realizing how close the oaf of a woman was to his back. Frightened.

"THE LIGHT!" The little ball did not take too well to the candle, hissing venomously and sounding like a hobbe. "TURN IT OUT! NOW-SAYS ME!"

Neither of the two make a move to blow out the candle, Garth slowly moving closer and closer to the bundle. A distinct head of crimson-colored hair was bundled up in a waving hairstyle, usually very pretty but now matted and thick. Sparrow. . .

"What in the name of Avo is going on here?" Hammer curiously leans over the Will-user's shoulders, the glint of the ocean-blue eyes burning up at her. "Sparrow, what are you doing?"

"Go away! I have on _the_ mask!" she hisses, a covering across her eyes and hands shooting up to protect. "_THE _MASK!"

"What in the world is she talking about?" Garth grumbles, meeting eyes with Hammer. She shudders, looking away from his freaky glowing orbs and back down at her friend.

"I think she's still drunk. It isn't even morning yet, after all," Hammer mumbles, walking around him and reaching a hand out towards her friend. "Come here, little Sparrow. It's time to go play hero."

"BACK!" Sparrow leaps on the bed, throwing her deadly fists in the air, one of which was clutching a bottle of _The Gangreen Fairy_. Apparently she had been to Knothole Island recently. . . "I will conquer Avo, Skorm, and any other deity that gets in my way! IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS EEEEV-IIIIIIIIIL! EVIL I TELL YOU! I WILL BE SUPREME OVERLORD OF ALBION AND ANY OTHER NATION I DECIDE TO TAKE A ROYAL SHIT UPON!"

"I'm getting irritated," Garth sighs, charging up a spell in his hand. "How long do you think she will go on?"

"I WILL TAKE SAMARKAND AFTER THAT! THEN I MIGHT TRY AND TAKE OVER THAT DESOLATE DESERT AREA NO ONE REALLY CARES ABOUT! AND-"

Hammer had already dragged a chair from the other corner of the room, a new bottle in her hand and laughing all the while. She was not afraid any more, obviously amused by the parading hero wearing nothing but her undergarments. "Oh, hours at the most. She really is something when she is drinking. Sit and watch."

"FOR ONE HUNDRED YEARS! A VAST ARMY OF ALTERED BALVERINES AT MY BECK AND CALL, RIPPING THROATS FROM ALL MY VICTIMS! HOBBES TO KNOCK OUT PEOPLES KNEECAPS AND STEAL THEIR SHINS SO NONE WILL EVER BE TALLER THAN ME AGAIN! OR-"

"That's quite enough," Garth snorts, throwing a heavy ball of electrical energy at the shouting drunkard, knocking her clean from the bed and against the sill.

Sparrow groans, the mask across the floor and dissolving into nothingness. "What in blue blazes is going on? I feel like I just got hit with Hammer's hammer, or something ridiculously painful along that line."

"You aren't drunk?" Hammer drops the empty bottle from her hands, whistling innocently. "Then why the hell were you screaming about taking over the world? Makes me worried to follow you, mate."

"Oh! Is that all?" She laughs, getting to her feet and rubbing her head where a bump was forming, thanks to the windowsill. "The Mask of Evil, that's what."

Garth stares at her. "Mask of Evil? Care to explain?"

"Well I was drunk last night. Me, Sam, and Max were drinking in the graveyard and when I finally stumbled in for bed a few hours ago, I wound up evicting the tenants that were living here and passed out. The Mask of Evil is the perk for sleeping here," she explains cheerfully, pulling on the clothing that was scattered about. "Though I don't remember getting undressed. Oh well, that's what happens with that shit. I saw little green goblins stealing my socks too."

"Wait, you mean to tell me you got that hideous mask, which is now gone mind you, from sleeping in this house?" Garth rubs his brow. "How stupid is that. Mask of Evil, really."

"Yes, really."

"You really are turning out to be more moronic than the oaf over there."

"Hey, I heard that! At least I'm not a damn glowstick! Bet you are a real riot at raves, huh?"

"Besides that, Mask of Evil."

"Yes, for the last damn time! Mask of Evil!" Sparrow walks past the two as if nothing was different and as if this was a normal occurrence. "Now, come on you two. You are wasting time when we have an Albion to save." She wobbles down the stairs.

Garth and Hammer look at one another slowly, both shaking their heads and following after her. The two never realized the little bump that appeared under the pillow of the master bed in the room.

"Yesssss. You willlllll be baaaaaack. I'lllll be waaaaaiiiiiting foooooorr youuuuuuuu, Heeeeroooooo!" A high-pitched little giggle, and the mask curls up to go to sleep, waiting for it's favorite victim to come back.

Little did it know, a tiny mask was forming over it's eyeholes.

**Sparrow's Friendly Tip: **Don't sleep in the _Dark Mark_. It has magical masks that make you want to knock people's shins out using hobbes.

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**...LMFAO. Review, guys... Just review. -walks away laughing at self for writing this-**


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